


The Wayfaring Letter

by lamusetragique (kitnkabootle)



Category: Gunsmoke
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-09 05:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitnkabootle/pseuds/lamusetragique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A letter is found in Dodge City that travels through the hands of its residents, while assumptions and guesses are made about its author.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wayfaring Letter

Title:  The Wayfaring Letter  
Theme:  A Day In Dodge  
Author: lamusetragique (kitnkabootle) and Gloriously  
Summary:  A letter is found in Dodge City that travels through the hands of its residents, while assumptions and guesses are made about its author.  
Rating:  G  
Words:  4529  
  
\---  
  
Mornings have always been Sam's favorite time of day. It's not just the weather, though it's a pretty sight when the sunlight stretches across the prairie skies and colors the Dodge City landscape. It's also the gentle, quiet way the morning comes over the town, with ease and calm, a far cry from the rowdy night that came before. Sam likes hearing the sound of the lock clicking on the Long Branch doors and pushing through the batwing doors to stand in the dusty, sun-streaked saloon.   
  
He knows he has a good hour or two before the townsfolk start rousing from their sleep and making their way up and down the wooden boardwalks that line Front Street. He knows to expect Wyatt and Earl, the early day-drunks to be in just before noon, sitting at their usual opposite tables and nursing whatever their pockets can afford. Sam also knows, that the redheaded Long Branch beauty won't appear above the stairs until eleven at the earliest and rarer still, before one.   
  
Sam stops in the middle of the saloon to assess the damage the night has brought. It's here that he often remembers an otherwise forgettable brawl when he sees a broken chair or cracked table leg. Today, the furniture looks just as it did the day before, intact. He's always glad when Miss Kitty can keep her ledger clear of repair costs, and is happiest when he has no damage to report.   
  
Sam picks up one of his rags and nudges it across the bar top. He tries to remember when he last did an order for glasses and makes a mental note to do a full inventory later on in the afternoon. It's mundane, perhaps, but working in saloons, Sam has learned to love the mundane.  
  
The rag cleans the counter of old whiskey and glass rims as Sam moves along, caring for the bartop as he does the Long Branch, with pride. His careful work is brought to a halt when a small envelope sneaks out from the wooden nook between the counter and the back wall behind the bar. Ordinarily, he wouldn't open an envelope not addressed to him, but the face is completely blank and in the place where Miss Kitty usually stores her ledger and business correspondence.  
  
He wonders at the contents for a minute and takes a moment to decide whether he ought to open it or not. He's known Miss Kitty to keep unpaid bills in this area and with how busy she's been lately, he wonders if she's forgotten it. He decides that if it were personal, she'd have stored it in a much safer place, not in an area where they have both left envelopes for one another, as well as other shared invoices and notes. He opens the letter and reads the first lines of the familiar feminine scrawl before realizing that he has made a very big mistake.   
  
\--  
Dearest,   
  
The words of my heart float through the air on deep summer dandelion's fluff. Stealing a hidden glimpse of you, hearing your footfall -  
\--  
  
Sam closes the letter and his eyes dart around the room as if he's just been caught with a hand in the sweets. He is embarrassed to have invaded Miss Kitty's privacy, even if it was an innocent mistake. He's been so careful to be a respectful and loyal employee to Kitty Russell for the many years he has been in her employ. It makes him ashamed to have delved into something meant for someone else.   
  
He checks the handwriting again. He’s seen Kitty’s writing vary depending on the correspondence, but it’s always been loopy and inherently feminine.  He’s almost certain that this belongs to the Long Branch proprietress.  
  
He stops for a moment, the letter feeling hot against his palms. He has never known a woman as careful and deliberate as Miss Kitty Russell. Everything she does has cause or intent, even on the few occasions when her temper has flared and gotten the better of her. Her actions have always been concise and devoted with all of the passion a person could have. Kitty does nothing halfheartedly.   
  
'So why then, would she leave a letter like this somewhere it could be found?'  
  
The color drains from Sam's rough cheeks, and droopy-lidded eyes. Perhaps she  wants it to be found.   
  
'Maybe she wanted it to be found by... me.'  
  
Sam edges the letter open, his palms damp from his racing pulse as he steals another glance at the writing. Once he's finished reading it, he folds it and tucks it back in the envelope. He places the envelope in his apron pocket and leans on the bar.  
  
Miss Kitty Russell. The object of his most hidden affections has finally reciprocated his love. He has wished for this day since the moment he first laid eyes on the beautiful redhead.   
  
Everyone remembers the first time they meet Kitty Russell.   
  
He's seen it time and time again, the look of love and lust that clouds the eyes of the men drifting in and out of Dodge City. Some have heard about her from other men on the trail, while others are knocked back by her radiance right there where they stand.  
  
He's never entertained an idea of anything romantic between himself and Kitty. He's devoted himself to her service and she as his dear friend. She's been fair and kind as his employer and she's looked after him in an almost motherly way, despite his many years on her.  
  
Sam feels a nagging feeling at his chest that reminds him about the Marshal. Of course, the Marshal.   
  
The Marshal and Miss Kitty have always been the worst kept secret in Dodge City and if anyone were to know about their 'non-relationship' it would be him. He has spent many nights hearing the Marshal's late knock after closing, and letting him in. The Marshal's always given him a kind smile and an appreciative nod before heading up the stairs, hat in hand towards Miss Kitty's closed bedroom door. That's not to mention the ear-tinting times he's heard a little too much of their exchange.  
  
He knows that the letter is not for him. It was a brief, insurmountable joy that he has allowed himself, but now he has to dig both heels in the depths of reality. She's written this for one man only and it's certainly not for her loyal barkeep. Sighing softly, he moves around the bar and runs his hand through his oily, graying hair and looks up towards the empty second floor banister. With a breath and a gentle smile to the silent room, he makes his way outside of the Long Branch doors and turns the lock.  
  
With the letter stored firmly in his apron pocket and a mildly heavy heart, Sam walks down the worn floorboards towards the US Marshal's Office to make a delivery.   
  
\---  
  
"Would you just hold yer horses, it takes a feller a lil' time to get started, don't cha see?" Festus mutters as his bones and muscles creek and crackle from a night of uncomfortably restless sleep in the Marshal's Office. Matt's out of town again, and Festus has been sleeping at the office in case of any emergencies that might crop up while the Marshal's away. He's never liked sleeping on the lumpy cot and wonders how the Marshal can stand it after all of these years.  
  
He rubs his back and squints at the offending light shining through the large office windows. He can see a figure on the other side, but it isn't until he's finally in front of the window that he can make out who it is. He no sooner manages to get to the door, before the retreating back of the Long Branch barkeep can be seen at a half-run back down the boardwalk.  
  
"Sam! Sam where’s you goin' s'quick like that?" Festus calls out after him, but the barkeep doesn't stop until he's back at the Long Branch and disappearing inside the saloon doors. Festus scratches his head. It isn't like Sam to be that impatient, but Festus assumes he's figured out the answer to whatever question he was coming to ask the Marshal. That's enough of an explanation for the tired deputy as he eases himself into one of the wooden chairs outside of the office.  
  
The streets have started to come alive but Festus knows that the mornings are the slowest time of day in Dodge, and he takes advantage of a little piece and quiet. He lowers his hat over his eyes, tucks his chin to his chest and crosses his arms as he allows his eyes to drift closed.   
  
"Festus..."  
  
"Aww shoot... I'll see to the hog direc'ly..."  
  
"Festus?"  
  
"Who ate that thur' pie?"  
  
"Festus!!"  
  
Festus jumps from sitting to standing, blinking blearily at the hot afternoon sun. He can't believe he's slept the morning clear away and here he is standing disheveled with dried drool on his chin looking right into the stunning face of --  
  
"Miss Kitty?"  
  
Kitty's smile brightens her features and she wrinkles her nose at the deputy, a laugh escaping from perfectly painted lips.  
  
"Aw foot, Miss Kitty - I just blinkered off there fer no more n' a wink er' two!" Festus, brushes his hands down the front of his worn clothes and pats the dust out at his stomach.   
  
Kitty Russell shakes her head, barely containing more laughter behind a wide smile, "Of course, Festus."   
  
Kitty reaches out a gloved hand and pats Festus' shoulder, leaning conspiratorially close before winking a set of dark eyelashes, "Your secret's safe with me.."   
  
Festus peers lopsidedly at the Long Branch proprietress before a grin sneaks across his mouth.  
  
It’s only after this exchange that Festus notices the packages tucked under Kitty’s arm and the hat box dangling from one hand. Regardless of his reputation for avoiding physical labour at all costs, he decides the right thing to do in this instance is to help his friend, and wrangles the hat box from Kitty’s grasp. It’s the smallest and likely the lightest of her parcels, so it’s just the right one to help with.  
  
Kitty’s knowing smile tells him he’s been caught, but she doesn’t say anything. She never does, and that’s precisely why Miss Kitty Russell is one of his favorite people.   
  
He helps her all the way to the Long Branch and lingers inside near the bar until Kitty offers him a drink for his troubles. It takes longer than usual for her to notice him because just as she stacks her parcels on the counter, Sam begins collecting them in his arms in a frantic hurry that has Kitty’s brows knitting together.   
  
The older bartender is rushing up the stairs, mumbling about helping Miss Kitty as he balances the packages, and Kitty and Festus do nothing but stare after him.  
  
Festus can’t figure Sam out this morning. But Festus’ attention span is shortened when he hears the chink of a glass on the bar as Kitty sets down a tall glass of draught beer.   
  
“Thanks for your troubles...” Kitty says wryly as a half-smile sarcastically graces her mouth.   
  
“It ain’t a’trouble, helpin’ out a lady that’s needin’ it.” Festus says and can’t help that his chest puffs out just a little for emphasis.   
  
Kitty shakes her head, a smile still tilting at the corners of her mouth and pours herself a beer to match his.   
  
The two drink between pleasant conversation, but the sun is high in the sky and the afternoon is beginning to drag on. As a deputy, Festus knows that there’s rounds to make, and other duties to attend to so he says goodbye to the pretty redhead, and heads out into the heat of the Dodge City day.  
  
When he gets back to the Sheriff’s office, he decides he’s earned just a five minute sit before he’s due to head out, and lowers himself into one of the dusty chairs on the boardwalk. As he bends to sit, he notices an envelope at his feet and picks it up.  
  
He wonders how long the letter’s been there and thinks the worst. When Matthew is out of town, correspondence to the jail is always a worrisome thing. He hurries to open it and is surprised to be greeted by a very personal looking scroll and not the official looking mail that the Marshal usually receives.  
  
Having no idea what the letter says, he stuffs it into his vest pocket and ambles across the dusty road to pay a visit to the Dodge City doctor.  
  
\--  
  
Dearest,   
  
The words of my heart float through the air on deep summer dandelion’s fluff. Stealing a hidden glimpse of you, hearing your footfall - and my heart quickens. Your sweet perfume scents the air around you and lingers long after you’ve gone...  
  
\--  
  
Doc Adams, scruffs his hand across his beard, his eyes wide as he looks up from the letter. Festus is staring, squinty eyed back at him, rolling both eyes down toward the paper.  
  
“What’s it say Doc?”  
  
Doc Adams looks over the letter again, and then folds it up in his hands tucking it back into the envelope, “Why, it’s a love letter.”  
  
“A love letter? Well that’s no biz’ness of the Sheriff! That there letter had me plum worried that somethin’ had happened to Matthew! Silly ole’...” Festus grumbles along as Doc’s patience begins to wear.  
  
“Love letters are important to some people, Festus. You’re just too foolish to understand...” Doc Adams retorts as he looks down at the envelope in his hands.  
  
“Who’s you supposin’ it’s from?” Festus asks.  
  
Doc Adams shakes his head and strokes his beard again as he ponders, “Well, have you seen any ladies nearby where it was found today?”  
  
Just as he says it, Doc waves his hand between them dismissively, “Bah... who am I kidding? A lady sharing your company? That’d be a miracle in itself!”  
  
Festus recognizes the insult right away and argues, “Now just what is you implyi’n ‘bout me... you...”  
  
“I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you!” Doc snaps back, a play in the usual friendly-duel that the pair share.  
  
“Iffin’ yer sayin’...” Festus starts, but a look of realization dawns on the deputy, “Wait Doc! I’m remembrin’ now. Onliest lady I saw’d today where I spotted that thur letter was Miss Kitty!”  
  
Doc’s greying brows shoot towards his thinning hairline, “Festus!” he exclaims, surprised at even the notion.  
  
“It’s true! Weren’t no other ladies there ‘s far s’I know.” Festus answers.   
  
Doc Adams paces the room for a moment.   
  
A letter from Kitty Russell.   
  
He opens the envelope and slips the letter out, re-reading its contents in his head in her voice. It’s very possible that the letter writer could have been her.   
  
It makes sense that a love letter, penned by the exquisite redhead, would be found outside of the Marshal’s office. It’s no secret to anyone in Dodge that the pair have shared an intimate relationship for years, not that they ever talk about it even quietly among friends.   
  
He’s never admitted it to anyone, except in a joking manner, but he’s always been a little in love with Kitty Russell. He’s seen her blossom from a saloon-wise young woman to a dignified older woman, and all the while she’s remained a loyal friend with a heart of gold for any well-meaning vagrant or less-fortunate soul she’s encountered.  
  
He’s always appreciated her company and respected her intelligence, not to make mention of her stunning appearance that has given fame to the Long Branch and attracted a fair share of miscreants with wicked intentions.   
  
But Kitty Russell, with that red hair and bright smile, has never thought of him as more than a friend. If he’s honest with himself, he’s glad of that fact. He’s felt in a way like a father figure to Kitty, whose own father was absent at best. He’s protected her like he would a daughter, his intentions always pure.   
  
Sometimes though, Galen Adams allows himself to feel just a little jealous over the men that have taken Kitty’s attention over the years.  
  
This time, however, he smiles and strokes his hand across the lower half of his face. He folds the letter and places it into the envelope for a final time.   
  
“Let’s get this letter to the rightful recipient. His stagecoach should be coming in to Dodge any minute now.”  
  
Doc removes his coat from the back of the chair at his desk and takes his hat from the table beside the door.  
  
Festus looks puzzled for a minute, but Doc sets him straight, “Well, you sure didn’t think it was for you, I hope!”   
  
The pair exit the shop as the late afternoon sun lowers itself in the sky towards the silhouetted horizon, a backdrop to the stagecoach rolling along Front Street, carrying the Dodge City Marshal.  
  
\---  
  
It’s not until shortly after eleven o’clock that Matt Dillon is finishing his rounds, all too coincidentally at the Long Branch Saloon.  
  
It’s been a long day of travel down dusty, dirt roads. He’s never liked stagecoaches. But he’s home now, back in the town he can count on, the town where he belongs, greeted on arrival by two of his closest friends, Doc Adams and Festus Hagen.   
  
There was also something he hadn’t counted on - a surprise love letter from the woman he has shared a very personal relationship with for many years.   
  
He steps through the saloon doors and instantly spots the woman he’s looking for. It’s an unusually quiet evening at the Long Branch, but Kitty looks like she’s ready to see the end of the evening. Her beautiful red hair is perfectly in place and her face is flatteringly painted, but her eyes look tired.  
  
He nudges past a few men laughing at a joke he didn’t hear and makes his way to the pretty redhead.  
  
He has always cast a shadow, spoiling any chance of taking Kitty by surprise and as Kitty looks up and meets his gaze with a beaming smile, he realizes he’s done it again. He hears her excuse herself from the men she’s talking to and he removes his hat as she comes towards him.  
  
“It’s about time you came to see me!” Kitty is mock-offended, but the glowing smile gives her true feelings away, “You’ve been in town for hours.”  
  
Matt’s smile matches hers in magnitude and he spins his hat in his hands, “I wanted to save the best for last.”  
  
Kitty nearly rolls her eyes, as she playfully swats his arm.  
  
Matt grins wider, “Actually Kitty... I did come here with a bit of a special delivery.”  
  
Kitty’s interest appears piqued as her eyes widen and instinctively drop to his hands.   
  
Matt realizes that she thinks he’s brought a present and struggles to get the letter out of his vest pocket before she’s too disappointed.  
  
He holds it up, expecting her to know exactly what it is. When her reaction is nothing but a look of mild confusion, he holds it out to her, “I found the letter you left for me. It seems to have made its way around Dodge a bit, but it finally got to me.”  
  
Kitty blinks and stares at him as though she has no idea what he’s talking about.  
  
He feels his palms moisten. He hasn’t considered that it might not actually be from Kitty. He’s spent the afternoon, reading it and imagining it to be her that it’s not occurred to him that the letter is unsigned and therefore not certainly by her hand.  
  
“You did write this for me... didn’t you?” Matt asks and tries to keep his growing embarrassment and anxiety to himself as he passes the envelope to Kitty. She takes it with her feminine hands and looks at it blankly for a minute.  
  
“Wrote you?” Kitty asks, turning the envelope over in her hands.  
  
Matt watches as her slender fingers work the edge of the envelope open. She collects the letter into her hand, and unfolds it to her eyes.   
  
Confusion falls away from her face as the words are poetically revealed, obviously striking a chord with the saloonkeeper.  
  
\--  
Dearest,   
  
The words of my heart float through the air on deep summer dandelion’s fluff. Stealing a hidden glimpse of you, hearing your footfall - and my heart quickens. Your sweet perfume scents the air around you and lingers long after you’ve gone. My dreams are of you - always of you. I want to take your hands, press my lips to the scars and calluses, and tell you how I love you.   
  
I am yours, but you'll never know it. You are mine, but I'll never insist it.   
\--  
  
When Kitty finishes reading the letter, her vision has blurred considerably.   
  
She turns saddened eyes towards Matt and in that instant, Matt knows that it’s not from her.  
  
“Well Kitty, I feel a bit foolish.” Matt admits with an abashed smile, placing his hat back on top of his mop of curls.   
  
Kitty smiles back, and slowly shakes her head, “I wish I could say I had written it, Matt. It’s a beautiful letter.”  
  
Matt nods and places a gentle hand to Kitty’s arm, “Well Kitty, I best be letting you close up the place here. It’s a quiet night.”  
  
She smiles and cups her hand over Matt’s, patting it gently as it slides from her arm when the tall lawman makes his way towards the batwing doors.   
  
He pushes the doors open and turns to look at the redhead who is holding the letter in her hands and watching after him, “I wouldn’t have minded one bit if it had been from you Kitty.”  
  
Kitty smiles with closed lips, the sadness lingering in her large glittering eyes, “I know, Cowboy.”  
  
Matt lets the batwing doors swing closed behind him as he makes his way down the darkened street towards his office.  
  
\---  
  
It’s been a very slow night for the Long Branch and Kitty collects the last few glasses from the empty tables. She closed up at half-past eleven, which is early for the normally busy saloon.  
  
But Kitty knows the busy days will come when the cattle drivers come back into down, and for now she’s enjoying the odd early night.   
  
The letter Matt left with her is still fresh in her mind. Like everyone else, she doesn’t know the author or the intended ‘Dearest’ but she does know that it’s a sincere profession of love and it touches her heart.   
  
She leans across the bar and takes the envelope out of the place where she laid it for safekeeping. She takes the letter out of the envelope and crosses to one of the only tables that still has a chair on its legs before it.  
  
She sets a lantern on the table and lowers herself into the chair, her fingernails casting gentle shadows on the paper as she reads it.  
  
There’s a sound from the upper level and Kitty looks up to see a shadowy figure on the stairs making its way down.   
  
“Hello?” Kitty says, questioning the presence.  
  
“Hello, Miss Kitty.” The shadow responds and Kitty knows the voice immediately. It belongs to one of her newer girls, a beautiful young woman named Elizabeth that she had saved from terrible working conditions in Deadwood city.  
  
Elizabeth’s blond hair and youthful features come into view as she nears and Kitty smiles at the young woman that she has taken under her wing.  
  
“What are you doing down here so late?” Kitty asks, the smile lingering at her lips as she folds the letter in her hands.   
  
“I was just getting a glass of water. My throat’s been dry from all of that dust out there these days.” Elizabeth’s eyes flick towards the letter.  
  
Kitty studies the young woman’s pretty features for a minute and notices the girl’s gaze settled upon the paper in her lap.  
  
Elizabeth doesn’t ask what it is but Kitty can see her curiosity.  
  
“It’s a love letter, “ Kitty smiles at Elizabeth as she slides it back into the envelope and closes the wearing paper flap.  
  
“Who’s it from?” Elizabeth asks, her eyes never leaving the paper until Kitty stands and pushes in her chair. The noise of the wooden legs grating the floorboards seems to pull the younger woman from her reverie.  
  
“No one seems to know,” Kitty answers gently, “But it’s from an admirer, very much in love and it’s for a very lucky someone.”   
  
Kitty crosses to the bar to pour a glass of water from the pitcher on the counter and returns to Elizabeth’s side to hand the glass to her.   
  
It takes a moment for Elizabeth to notice the glass and when she does she smiles and thanks Kitty for her troubles.  
  
“Well, you had better get up there and try to sleep. Tomorrow, those cattle drivers are expected in town. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” Kitty warns, and gently pats Elizabeth’s shoulder.  
  
The young woman begins to make her way up the stairs as Kitty double checks the door. She jiggles the lock twice for good measure before she hears the feminine voice speaking to her from the darkness at the top of the stairs.  
  
“The words of my heart float through the air on deep summer dandelion’s fluff.”   
  
Kitty feels her lips fall apart at the memorable beginning to the letter. She crosses towards the table and peers up at Elizabeth who is partly silhouetted.  
  
Kitty stands stock-still as Elizabeth recites the letter from the very beginning to the very end, word for word.  
  
“I am yours, but you'll never know it. You are mine, but I'll never insist it.“ Elizabeth finishes and stands staring down the long staircase that divides them.  
  
“The letter was for you, Miss Kitty.” She says quietly, and allows silence to fall between them before she turns and disappears behind her bedroom door.   
  
Kitty can say nothing. She has not considered for one single minute that Elizabeth could have written the letter. Neither did she ever once speculate that the letter was for her.  
  
Kitty looks up the worn saloon stairs to the empty balcony above and slowly dims the lantern, just as another Dodge City day comes to a close.  
  
\---  
  
“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind   
and is therefore winged Cupid painted blind.”   
~ William Shakespeare.  
  
\---  
  
The End  
  
\---


End file.
